100th Hunger Games Quarter Quell
by Cahayafosc
Summary: SYOT closed The 100th Hunger Games is here, so get ready for the fight for your life. Another thing: it's a quarter quell, and it will make things more dangerous then ever. Are you ready?
1. Chapter 1

**Welcome to the 100****th**** Hunger Games Quarter Quell. First off, I don't own the hunger games. Anyway, here's the tribute list and quarter quell.**

**President Crystal Frost POV:**

As I stood on the stage looking over the faithful citizens of the Capitol, I could barely contain my glee. This year's Hunger Games would be a quarter quell, which means it will be extra ruthless, extra bloody, and, for the districts, extra heartbreaking. The boy holding the box was coming up the marble steps now, bearing the card for the quarter quell. When he reached the top he knelt down, holding out the box and precious contents to me. I took it with a firm hand, then waved him off. He skittered down the stairs, as I tantalizingly held the box, running my hand along its smooth, metal cover. Finally, I took the key out of my pocket, slid it in to the well oiled lock, and turned. The box clicked open, revealing rows and rows of cards, enough quarter quells to last for thousands of years. I ran my hand through the cards, until I got to the one for the 100th hunger games, also the 4th quarter quell. Pulling it out, my eyes eagerly scanned the card. A malicious smile spread across my face as the theme of tis year's quell became known. The audience cheered and begged for me to read the card, and after a suspense building pause, I did.

"As a reminder to the Districts that things can always be worse, the 2 children reaped will also have all their siblings reaped. Therefore, all the children of both families reaped will be put in the games, regardless of age."

The murmurs of happiness swelled through the Capitol, as TV screens hanging above the crowd showed the anguish of those with children in the districts. I put the delicate card back in the box and closed it. Then I proceeded to walk off the stage, already calculating the arena.

Tribute Form: Please submit in the reviews

(Your main character must be between the ages of 12-18)

Main Character Name:

Age:

Gender:

District:

Appearance:

Personality:

Preferred Weapon:

Strengths:

Weaknesses:

Family(adults):

Family(siblings that will be going into the arena with your main character):

Other:

(Please answer a short version of the categories you just answered for your main character for each sibling, also feel free to submit more than one sibling, 6 maximum, at any age even babies)


	2. Tribute List

**Hi! Here's is the list of tributes:**

D1 Girl: Alessandra (Aly) Rite (18)

D1 Boy: Cole (18)

D2 Girl: Irene Honeysuckle (15)

D2 Boy: Nash Maron (17)

D3 Girl: Jezebel Arleken (17)

D3 Boy: Christopher (Chris) Calkin (15)

D4 Girl: Aya Haddock (18)

D4 Boy: Odran Brody (12)

D5 Girl: Brooklyn (Brooke) Ashton (14)

D5 Boy: Samuel R. Kassel (18)

D6 Girl: Bronwyn Reid (13)

D6 Boy: Keenan Goodfell (16)

D7 Girl: Peridot (Perri) Serris(13)

D7 Boy: Avixul (Avix) Shard (17)

D8 Girl: Mila Breslin (12)

D8 Boy: Kofi Reinhart (18)

D9 Girl: Lucie Morgan (12)

D9 Boy: Maverick Blackbourn (14)

D10 Girl: Talia Johnson (16)

D10 Boy: Jerome Nightingale (15)

D11 Girl: Celeste Brestenway (13)

D11 Boy: Daniel Lewis (16)

D12 Girl: Kami Sagittarius (12)

D12 Boy: Ima Dyesoon (16)

We now have all our tributes! District 1 Reaping will be posted soon

Note to the guest who posted Amanda Blue: I was already filled for tributes on my story, but I sent your character to my friend maiden of sarcasm who will use her in her story. Her story is called the Insanity Games, the 149th hunger games, and her name is Maiden of Sarcasm. Thanks for sendig one!


	3. District 1 Reapings

**The moment you've all been waiting for, the first Reapings are here. Get ready!**

**Alessandra (Aly) Rite- D1, 18**

I am running, running, running, out running the tributes, outrunning the mutts, even outrunning the weapons. I can hear the sounds of death and destruction, but I don't even miss a step. Before long I've reached the golden cornucopia. It glints in the sun, its weathered, sun warmed surface glinting hazily in the mid afternoon light. I clamber on top, ignoring the sting of the heat as it burns my palms. Reaching the edge, I stand up, letting my blond curls blow back in the wind. The scene lying before me is pleasant, though only to my eyes. Tributes lie dead on the ground, some with fresh wounds and others that look long dead. The mutts that had been chasing us swarm around the living and the dead alike. A few tributes are left standing, but their numbers are diminishing dramatically. Though they are dying steadily, I might as well help them on their way. I reach my hand behind my back, fingering the soft fringes of the feathers on my arrows. Notching my bow, I point it at the nearest tribute. The release is stunning and deadly. Color spirals through the air as the arrow finds its marl. Without a sound, the boy tribute from District 10 drops dead, followed shortly by his partner, courtesy of the mutts. I'm so engrossed in the action that I don't notice the boy from district 6 had climbed the Cornucopia and was now standing there, grinning at me. His sword is raised in the air, about to come down on my neck. With the quick reflexes I am known for, I release an arrow into his heart before he can move another inch closer. The smile on his face becomes permanent as he tumbles off the cornucopia, dead. Looking out over the landscape, I realize I am the only one left. The victor!

The trumpets blare, quickly followed by the voice of the announcer.

"And the victor of the 100th Hunger Games is Alessandra Rite!"

I pump my fist victoriously, only stopping when a ladder descends from a hovercraft hovering above me. Grabbing on, I am immediately frozen in place. As I rise up, I can hear voices calling to me from the vehicle.

"Aly! Aly, wake up! It's the Reapings! Get up!"

All of a sudden, the craft begins to shake. I fall off hitting the ground with a thud. Closing my eyes with pain, I can still hear the voices. _Just go away, I think. _Finally I give in and open my eyes. To my surprise I'm lying on a wooden floor, tangled in sheets. My bed lies above me, and on it are my 2 little sisters, Marcella and Amena. On seeing my eyes open, they immediately pounce on me.

"You know, you're really hard to wake up!"

"Yeah, we had to push you off the bed to do it!"

"Uhhh, I have a headache now," I groaned.

"Oh sorry, I just didn't want you to be late. You're volunteering right?

"Yeah, thanks, but now I have to get ready. Why don't you 2 monkeys go tell Mom that I'm up, ok?"

Obligingly they ran off, closing the door behind them with a thud. Sighing, I pulled myself off the floor, stooping to pick up my rumpled sheets. I placed them carelessly back on the bed. Then I walked over to my mirror. My usually perfect blonde curls were matted into a frightening bedhead, while my sapphire blue eyes were dull and heavy. At least my tan still seemed nice and dark. I walked over to y closet, pulling out the dress I had picked out so long ago. Its bright blue color perfectly matched that of my eyes. I pulled it over my head, watching as it drifted down over my perfectly shaped body. It went down to my knees, floating slightly when I moved. The short sleeves were perfect for the current weather, sunny and warm. The next problem to tackle? My hair. The usually perfect blond curls were matted and tangled, and just running my brush through them seemed as painful as any injury I might get in the Hunger Games. When it was all over and done with, I left my hair down, simply securing it back with a simple barrette. My eyes were sparkling once again after applying a touch of mascara, and my feet, encased in new white flats looked delicate and tiny. I was finally ready to go. My door opened easily, not sticking as it sometimes does. I really need to get that fixed when I come home. The stairs are gone in a flash as I practically fly down them, before coming to a stop in front of our breakfast table.

My mom looks up in surprise before standing to greet me.

"Hello honey. You're volunteering, right?"

"Yup, I assured her. I'm going to bring home money and fame, be sure of it!"

"That's all great, but how about I bring you some bacon first! You can't go into the Hunger Games with an empty stomach."

I sat down hastily, mainly because the smell of the home cooked food was already wafting over to the table, and it smelled delicious. The plate was empty in a record amount of time. The second my mom brought it over, I was already devouring it, leaving only the clear shiny blue of the glass. Looking at the time, I jumped up in involuntary surprise.

"Mom, it's already 10! I'm going to be late!"

"Ok honey, just run, they usually start late anyway."

With those words I was out of the house and down the steps, where I proceeded to dash past the street, stopping for nothing. The colorful homes of my neighbors passed by in a blur of colors, as I expertly dodged the people milling around on the sidewalks. By the time I reached the town square, the speech was already in progress. I managed to slip in undetected, just as it ended and the dull applause of a whole district rang through the sweet scented air. When I was safely in my section, I finally let out a sigh of relief. The Reapings were only just starting now, and I had beaten my record running time by a full minute. Of course before I had never has such motivation to run that fast.

"And so, the Hunger Games were started," the mayor droned on, "now who's ready for the Reapings?"

A collective cheer swept through the crowd, making my ears rang. My muscles tensed as I waited for the horrid district 1 escort to pull out a name.

"Our District 1 female tribute is Julia Wem- I volunteer!"

As the name rang out, thousands of volunteers rang through the crowd. As everybody rushed for the stage, I knew I would just have to be one step ahead of them. With a spring, I jumped up and grabbed onto a lamppost hanging overhead. I swung forward then back, before jumping onto the next one. My practice on the monkey bars had come in handy. As I neared the stage, I could just see the first girl about to mount the steps. With one last powerful swing, I landed on top of the stage, practically flattening the mayor.

"I volunteer," I screamed again.

"Well, you certainly seem, um, prepared. So, what is your name?"

"My name is Alessandra Rite. Call me Aly."

"Well, District 1! Please welcome your female tribute, Aly Rite!"

**Cole Tallyn- D1, 18**

The weights glinted brightly in the morning sunlight as I lifted them above my head. My muscles stretched and strained, for 10 more seconds, before I finally allowed them to release the heavy metal. The barbells landed on the floor with a thud, nearly hitting my foot. I wiped the sweat off my forehead, flipping my silver bangs off to the side of my head.

"Cole," my father's voice called out.

"What?"

"Come out of there! You've been training for 4 hours! You're going to miss the Reapings!

_Whoops._

I loped out of the expansive training room, and into my room right next door. The bed was nicely made and my clothes had been neatly put away. In the corner, my sword glinted brightly in the light, its sharp, curved edge seeming to wink maliciously at me. I winked back, then walked over and picked it up. With a single thrust and slice, the stray training dummy in the corner of my room was decapitated. Nice and clean. Suddenly the door burst open. My reflexes went into action immediately, and the next thing I knew I had the mystery person pinned to the ground, my sword at their throat. I sneaked a glance down at my victim. Uh-oh. Beneath me, my twin, Ash, stared angrily up at me. I quickly scooted off, blushing slightly.

"Good reflexes, but make sure you work on your tactics. By the way, the Reapings are starting in 5 minutes."

I quickly sheathed my sword and ran out of the house. When I reached the courtyard where the Reapings were, they had already started. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw another girl about my age skid into her place, so I quickly followed her lead. As soon as I was in place, I tweaked my ears to hear what part of the ceremony we were at. Great. Still the speech. The air was heavy and warm, and it settled on me like a blanket in the cold of winter. Before I knew it, I was asleep.

"And now for our male tribute!"

I woke with a start, jumping at the sound of the mayor's booming voice. Looking up at the stage, I could make out the girl tribute standing up tall, looking quite proud of herself. Wait. That was the girl that got here right before me!

"Bart Flout," the mayor called out.

"I volunteer!"

Hordes of teenage boys poured out of the crowd, all heading to the stage. With the superior strength I possessed, I elbowed and pushed my way to the front. Before I knew it, I was at the stage mounting the steps, ahead of everyone else. Finally, after what seemed like a thousand years, I reached the microphone and stood in front of it.

"And what is your name?"

"Cole. Cole Tallyn."

"District 1! Please give a round of applause for your tributes! Please shake hands now!"

I turned slowly, and reached out to grasp the girl's hand. It was warm and dry.

"Cole," I introduced myself.

"Aly."

The crowd started departing as the peacekeepers surrounded us.

"Wait," the mayor called out, "I still have to announce the quarter quell!"

"To show that things could always be worse, all the children in the family of both tributes will be sent to the Hunger Games along with the tribute, whether they volunteer or are reaped."

My eyes bugged out of my head. This couldn't be happening! I sneaked a glance at Aly. She was just as pale as I was. I could hear our parents scream out, as their remaining children were called to the stage one by one.

"Will Marcella Rite and Amena Rite please come forward."

Two small girls edged their way out of the crowd and walked up the stairs to the stage. As soon as they reached the top, they attached themselves to Aly.

"These are you newest tributes, Marcella, 14, and Amena, 9.

I looked up shocked at the mayor. They were sending all the children, regardless of age?

"Now will Ash Tallyn, Anya Tallyn, Minerva Tallyn, Ariella Tallyn, and Sage Tallyn."

I could only watch sadly as my siblings walked up to the stage, each looking nervous in their own way.

"Please meet your last tributes, Ash Tallyn, 18, Anya Tallyn, 16, Minerva Tallyn, 17, Ariella Tallyn, 15, and Sage Tallyn, 19."

We were forced back off the stage, and into a train.

But, but what about good-byes," Aly stuttered out.

"None. Too many people."

And so the train ride was started, in complete and total silence.

**I'm so sorry I haven't posted! School just started, and I've been getting everything sorted out. I'm also sorry if this chapter is really crappy, because I just got my braces tightened and they hurt like heck. So really sorry, but I hope you at least like it a little bit. Please review! **


	4. District 2 Reapings

**Ok. First off, I wanted to say that I'm incredibly sorry we haven't posted in forever. You see, if I didn't mention this before me and my friend maidenofsarcasm are co-writing this. So we're switching off every other chapter. I did District 1 reapings, and she did district 2, and I'll do district 3 and so on. We ended up getting occupied with other things, and she didn't write this until now. That is also why chapters will differ in writing style and length. SO anyway, really sorry about the wait, we'll update more quickly from now on. And without further ado, I present to you, the District 2 reapings!**

**Irene Honeysuckle- D2, 15**

*Woosh.*

A cold wind blew around me, rustling the many branches of the tree. Pages of the book I was reading fluttered about, and I shivered. Why, you might ask, was I up at exactly 5:03 a.m, without a jacket or shoes on, reading a book while sitting in a tree? The answer is simple. It's reaping day.

Usually kids my age are out training or choosing an outfit for today instead of sitting in a tree. Everyone - or, mostly everyone - is excited for the reapings because we're widely known as a bunch of bloodthirsty morons who haven't a clue how to be kind. Not me. I hate the games with a passion. Irene, the girl-who-wasnt-a-happy-murderer. Irene, the one who's different.

Every year on this day I do what I'm doing now - hiding. It calms my nerves to know that nobody can find or even touch me - at least for a little while. When it hits 7 on the clock, my sense of safety vanishes and I clomp down to city hall along with hundreds of other people to see which unlucky kid gets picked to go and likely die in the games. This year, though, not just two will go. It's a quell this year, and siblings go with you. I just hope with all my heart that no babies have to go in. It's just who I am.

Speaking of siblings, my brother Iros called through the dense wood, screeching my name. I check my watch and sure enough, it's 7. Time to leave.

Now, I could monotonously go through the tale of how I trekked back home, put on a dreadful dress and heels, walked down the hill to the city hall and sat through the reader, Rosalind Moon, fishing in a glass bowl and calling out a boy named Nash's name along with his siblings. Who wants to hear something like that? It's horrible. But I can tell you what's worse. What could be worse that hearing that?

Hearing Rosalind call out my own - and my brothers - name.

Crap.

**Nash Maron- D2, 17**

My family and I sat in a semi-circle around the TV in our living room. My fellow triplets, Caroline and Lance, sat on either side of me, all three of us leaning into the TV to watch the announcement that President Frost was about to make. My grandmother sat in her old, rickety rocking chair and my parents on the plush couch against the wall Finally, Frost began to speak. "As a reminder to the Districts that things can always be worse, the 2 children reaped will also have all their siblings reaped. Therefore, all the children of both families reaped will be put in the games, regardless of age." The words left her mouth clearly as mine fell agape.

The effect was instantaneous. My mother and grandmother both gave small shrieks and clutched their chests; my father stood up abruptly, sending his glass of red wine spilling over the carpet. Caroline lunged and hung on tightly to my arm and Lance just sat there. Nobody spoke, and the Capitol sign shone brightly against the screen, until a pleasant voice called out. "Now, back to our regularly scheduled programming..."

These Games were sure to be interesting.

Caroline clasped my hand in hers before we separated. "So I wonder who'll get picked, huh? How many brothers? Sisters, I wonder? I wonder how old they'll be I wonder-" I scowled. "I wonder when you'll shut up."

"Well, god!" She snapped back, sizing me up. "I'm not the one who's-" Lance cut in, breaking her off. "C'mon, guys, quiet..." he trailed off, as a short brightly dressed woman jogged up to the podium standing in the District 2 main square. "Welcome, hello, bonjour, accueil, to the 100th Hunger Games reaping!" she smiled into the microphone. "I'm hosting this lovely event. I'm your announcer, miss Rosalind Moon!"

Thank you, miss Rosalind Moon, for telling us this useful piece of information. I truly would not have known that you were the announcer for the reapings. Thank you for giving us this fact that we were oblivious to. I rolled my eyes as Lance mimicked Caroline, whispering into my ear. "Isn't her dress fabulous? I'd love to live in the Capitol!"

"Well, we'd better get on to picking out our wonderful tributes, eh?" Rosalind trilled. I rolled my eyes again. God, let's just get on with this so I can go home and eat.

Rosalind's hand hovered over the clear glass bowl containing the tribute names. She slowly made her hand descend into the little dome, trying ever so hard to make the scene suspenseful and ominous. Somebody near me groaned. Another yelled "get on with it!"

Pouting, Rosalind Moon pulled out a tiny white slip. "Our male tribute for District 2 is none other than..._ NASH MARON!" _

A grin spread across my face. "And since we include all siblings for this Quell, we also have... _CAROLINE AND LANCE MARON!"_

Caroline shot off to the stage and Lance and I walked up together, keeping an even, perfect stride, looking like clones. "Oh dear..." Rosalind said, surveying all three of us. "Now, I can tell Caroline... but who's Lance and who's Nash?"

_Facepalm._

**So how was it? Please review and give us suggestions if you have anyway! District 3 will be up within the next week, I promise. No more skipping out on you guys for weeks at a time! **


	5. District 3 Reapings

**Jezebel Arleken- D3, 17**

The knife cuts through the air with perfect alignment, turning once before embedding itself into the tree up to the hilt. I walk over, to pull it out, pausing only to check the knife's position on the target. Its shining silver surface is sunk deep into the bull's-eye, a clear indicator that I am ready. Ready to take on 243 other teenagers, and come out victorious. Ready to win the Hunger Games. With one clean yank the knife slides out of the trunk, covered in sticky sap. I wipe it on the grass before sheathing it in the special holster I keep at my hip.

As I turn around to walk back towards my house, memories flood my mind, memories of the days before I was a swift, precise killing machine. I used to play with the other children, throwing balls around and skipping rope under the constantly grey skies, while singing silly little songs that we would make up. The childhood that I lost when I turned 8 and my father started training me. My eyes start to water, and I quickly turn away and keep walking. I will be a victor, and victors don't cry. Especially not for something as stupid as lost innocence.

Before I can knock on the front door of my large house, it is yanked open by my younger brother Darren. His eyes are filled to the brim with glee, and his small feet bounce across the tiled floor consistently.

"So, are you volunteering? Are you? Are you?"

"Yes," I laugh, ruffling his hair gently. Darren and my other siblings are the only people I am ever kind to, and the only ones I've ever loved, though usually? I don't care. I just don't have many feelings anymore. There's not much respect in District 3 for ruthless killers, which is why our family, though affluent, is constantly alone. No friends, whatsoever. Needless to say, we were limited to the companionship of our siblings, and the rare child brave enough to look past the reputation. Of course the reputation is true. I _do _kill quickly and without mercy. Which is why I will be a career, even though I'm from District 3.

As Darren grabs my hand and starts to pull me away, I shift my gaze to the top of the stairs, just in time to see my twin, Gage, shake his head disapprovingly. The frown on his face makes it evident that he has overheard my conversation and doesn't like my decision. He never did like the Hunger Games anyway. I don't know why. With one glare from me he gets the message and clumps down the stairs, frown still plastered on his face.

"So, do you have a problem with me joining the games," I ask.

"No, um I mean, well, yes. Yes I do. YOU WANT TO KILL INNOCENT CHILDREN!"

"So? I for one, think killing is rather fun. Like a game!"

"You, my dear sister, are sick. I can't believe we're even related! You know what? I'm sick of hearing you spout about the games. I can't wait until you're gone, and I hope you never come back!"

With those final, scathing words, he stomped off in a huff, heading back to his room. To bad for him that his words won't affect me. They haven't since I started killing. Truthfully, killing really is fun and a good deed. After all, you are ridding the world of another scumbag each time you kill. What could be better?

I head up the stairs to my room, stomping the floor extra hard as I pass gage's room. Once I'm safely inside my well-adorned room, I collapse on the bed in a heap. Seriously, all this fighting with my brother has made me exhausted, and I REALLY need to be in top shape for the games.

"Jezebel! The Reapings start in half an hour! Get dressed!"

I just have no luck, do I? With a heavy sigh I flip over the side of my bed, landing in perfect form on the white carpet. If I had fallen that would have been one serious problem, seeing as how basic tumbling was literally the first thing I learned in training.

I plod over to my wooden dresser, carelessly yanking open the top drawer. Inside, is my favorite dress, a white minidress that hugs my curves and makes my legs look nice and long. That combined with the silver heels I've been saving just for this occasion truly make me stunning. Not that I wasn't before. With my curly red hair and bright blue eyes I was _always _the prettiest in the district.

As I set out towards the Reapings, I carefully monitor my two brothers and my sister who are running along behind me. Gage glares off into the distance, obviously still mad about earlier. What a loser. Darren, Anabeth, and Ezra skip along happily behind me, laughing joyously. I roll my eyes. Happiness is seriously overrated.

When we reach the square we are immediately corralled into separate fenced areas, my brother on one side with the 17-year-old boys, and the rest of my family into the open area in the middle of the paved block. I am sent to the 17-year-old girl section, where I _patiently_ wait for the names to be drawn. After what seems like forever, the mayor stops his endless drone and moves toward the bowls. Just as is hand plunges into the girls' bowl, he stops. Why is he stopping? Oh wait! The quarter quell!

"Ladies and Gentlemen. To show that things could always be worse, all the children in the family of both tributes will be sent to the Hunger Games along with the tribute, whether they volunteer or are reaped."

After this statement, the mayor continues his lunge into the glass bowl, leaving the bewildered horrified district 3 citizens to worry by themselves. I smirk. This is even better. Now I can drag Gage in too! Finally, the mayor pulls out a single slip of paper. Before he can even open it, I yell out the sentence I've been waiting to say since I was 8.

"I volunteer!"

**Christopher (Chris) Calkin- D3, 15**

The glorious blue sky sweeps over the dingy, grey walls of the local factories. Here in District 3, sunlight is so rare that whenever the sun comes out almost every one in the district comes out to bask in its warmth. As I walk down the side streets, I see multiple neighbors and friends just out enjoying the pleasant day. It's the perfect temperature out, warm but with a cool breeze. I could almost, _almost _qualify this day as perfect. It would be, if today weren't the Reapings.

As I turn into the square I spot my siblings, Jeff and Danny in the distance, haggling over fruit at one of the rare marketplaces. My father, however, is nowhere to be found. Probably drinking away all of our hard earned money. He always was a horrible father. I wave to my brothers, before hurrying off to my final location. The single store located off in the slums of the district.

As I let myself in, I can hear a bell ring in the back, and a girl comes to welcome me. Not just any girl, but Maria. The only girl I've ever loved. My girlfriend.

"Chris! It's so good to see you! What brings you here!"

"You know, just out and about enjoying the sun. Thought I would stop by and see how your dark hole of a shop is doing."

"It is not a- well, actually it kind of is."

"Well why don't you come outside, get a tan or something."

"I don't know. You know this is the only store around like this-"

"Oh c'mon. Nobody's going to come today! They're all outside!"

"Fine, give me one second to change."

As she disappeared into the back, I turned around to look at the new arrivals. Gallons of paint were stacked up along the walls, while stacks of pure white canvas were piled in the corners. Mobiles dangled from the ceiling, strung with bright fish, colorful beads, and glowing stars. While paintings were hung haphazardly on the walls, put anywhere where there was room. The entire place was crammed with art supplies. Of course, it is the only art store in the district.

As I stooped to admire a particularly stunning painting of a waterfall cascading gracefully over the face of a cliff, Maria came back in, now dressed in a light blue sundress and leather sandals.

"You know, I had to use a photo from an old history book to paint that one. I didn't even know what a waterfall was until I spied it while looking through those ancient books for ideas. Do you like it?"

"Yeah, I love it. It's, well, amazing!"

"You want it?"

"Well, yeah, but it must of taken you forever to paint. You could sell it for a lot of money."

"Just consider it a gift for Reaping day. Now are you coming?"

I pick up the painting with a shrug, tucking it carefully into my jacket before following Maria out the door. Immediately, we head towards an old haunt of ours, a secluded orchard reachable only by following a complex maze of old trails.

Walking into the clearing is like walking into my own personal heaven. The grass is a brilliant green, somehow even more beautiful under the bright blue sky. The clearing is fringed by trees, trees whose arched branches hang low with lush, ripe fruits. I pull Maria over to an apple tree, and look around for the perfect one. Finally, I spot a perfectly shaped glistening apple located at the precise top of the tree. I heave my self carefully up onto the nearest branch, then start to inch my way up, slowly but surely until I reach the top. I stretch my hand out, just managing to latch onto the apple. It comes of in a single tug, and I start to scale my way down. Then I step on what looks like a strong branch, but obviously is not. Of course I didn't know that until it broke under my weight. I crash through the rest of the branches, landing hard on my back. For a second I can't breathe, the air knocked out of me and just admire the sight of Maria's face swimming above me. When I can finally catch my breath and my vision clears, I see Maria's worried expression. With a grin, I hand her the apple.

"Well at least that didn't break."

Maria giggles, relieved, and falls over into her back next to me. We lie there for the longest time before I suddenly bolt up.

"Maria! What time is it!"

She sits up too, worried at the thought of missing the Reapings.

"I don't know! We better hurry back. I hope we aren't to late."

She hurries off down the trail we came on, with me following just behind. By the time we get to the square, the mayor is already done with his speech and is just about to draw from the girls' reaping bowl. Suddenly he pauses. Maria and I look at each other in confusion, before understanding dawns in our eyes. This must be the quarter quell announcement!

"Ladies and Gentlemen. To show that things could always be worse, all the children in the family of both tributes will be sent to the Hunger Games along with the tribute, whether they volunteer or are reaped."

Once again, our eyes meet in shock. I feel seriously bad for whoever is going to be in this quarter quell. As the mayor draws the girl's slip, a voice rings out through the crowd.

"I volunteer!"

I look towards the source of the voice, and spy a well muscled but shapely 17-year-old girl with curly red hair and brilliant blue eyes making her way towards the stage. She might be beautiful, but Maria is the only girl I have eyes for. She makes her way to the microphone, then plants her feet in a determined stance and calls out her name.

"My name is Jezebel Arleken, and I _will _be the victor this year."

As the mayor congratulates her, I wonder how she can stand condemning her siblings to their deaths.

The mayor turns and plunges his hand into the 2nd bowl, before pulling out a single slip of paper. He unfolds it, scanning it quickly before calling out the name.

"Christopher Calkin."

Crap. I'm screwed. Next to me, Maria shrieks, clinging desperately to my arm as I make my way towards the stage. When we reach the base, I gently detach her, kiss her once on the mouth, and then make my way up the stairs.

The mayor shakes my hand and congratulates me, then turns toward the microphone.

"We would now like to call the siblings of these tributes up to the stage. Gage Arleken, age 17.

A glum faced boy with blond hair and green eyes clomps his way up the stairs, glaring angrily at his twin. Or at least I think they're twins.

"Darren Arleken, age 11."

An excited boy with straight, red hair, green eyes, and freckles runs up the stairs to stand next to his sister. He is obviously another person who wants to kill innocent children, just like his sister.

"Anabeth Arleken, age 6."

A curly haired blonde girl with freckles bounces up next, nervous but no quite understanding what all the fuss is about. She waves sweetly, showing off a gap-toothed smile. The gamemakers really are sick if they'll send children like her into the games.

"Ezra Arleken, age 2."

The crowd gasps in horror, but no child comes up. Eventually, jezebel has to walk down into the crowd to retrieve her youngest brother. He gurgles happily as she walks up the stairs his grey eyes alight with happiness and his strawberry blonde hair glinting in the sunlight.

"Jeff Calkin, 17."

My older brother walks up to the stage dejectedly, his head held low. I can't believe they have to endure this too.

"Danny Calkin, 18."

My oldest brother keeps his head held high, but the look of anger is clear on his face.

I look out over the crowd as we all stand together, and soon spot Maria. Her best friend is comforting her as she weeps, her eyes foxed firmly on where I am standing.

"District 3. I present to you your tributes for the 100th Hunger Games!"

As we are lead away, I sneak one last glance at Maria, before I am lead away to certain death.


End file.
